You’ve Never Been This Far

Work at home Friday! I have to go to Quest this morning to get some bloodwork done (the joys of being an old gay in his sixties never stop, believe you me), but this is the last test for something new for awhile, and will determine whether I need additional treatment for something else… I don’t know, though. I feel pretty good and have energy and there’s not even a hint of brain fog anymore, which is kind of like having enough oxygen after breathing in smoke for years. I know that might sound extreme, but that’s how I look at it because that’s how it feels. I still have short term memory issues (i,e, going into the kitchen and forgetting why I went in there to begin with), but those are bearable and so much better than every other symptom of this nonsense I’ve been dealing with this decade. But, as I have said and will continue to say and believe, it’s so nice to know there was a medical issue to blame these past five-going-on-six years rather than it be from getting older and more frail and feeble. And, even with those issues, I managed to get things done anyway.

That’s something, isn’t it?

I did stop on the way home last night to make groceries, but forgot a few things (of course) so am going to have to go out this weekend to get those, or perhaps simply have them delivered. After I got home and Sparky commanded my attention while watching the news, I did get some laundry started, but that was about it. I went down some Youtube wormholes for research–I am writing an essay about US History, wrapped around the PBS series The American Revolution, with a shout out to Hamilton–which was a lot of fun. I do love me some history. I also am going to start writing my essays about powerful women of the sixteenth century, under the Monstrous Regiment of Women umbrella. I also scanned some notes from my journal for Chlorine, and I hope to get that finished today. There’s no college football this weekend, so Saturday yawns wide open and free.

I’ve already been to Quest to get the lab work done and have come home to finish this and do my work-at-home duties along with my other chores. I wasn’t gone more than thirty minutes, including driving and parking, which really isn’t bad. Of course, before the anxiety medicine I would have been sitting in the lobby, scrolling through my phone or reading my book or some combination of the two, while fidgeting the entire time. I left here just after eight and was back by eight forty, which isn’t terrible. Feeling good and better rested and losing the brain fog has made me really appreciate the anti-anxiety medication all the more, because there’s not that tension building inside all the time anymore, which is also very relaxing; not being tightly wound is quite marvelous, and I don’t know how I managed sixty years plus without said medication. Better late than never.

I saw yesterday that Liam Neeson did the narration for an antivax documentary singing the praises of RFK Jr, and the dangers of vaccines and the COVID hoax and so forth; welp, Mr. Neeson will never be watched in anything ever again in this household. It speaks a lot to who he is, doesn’t it? Either he’s a medical conspiracy moron, or he’s a whore who’ll take a paycheck no matter what he has to do for it. In either case, not someone whose career I have any interest in continuing to support any longer. (I also noted that Sydney Sweeney has also decided to distance herself from MAGA and her white supremacy antics–now that her career is taking and her films are bombing. Never forget that smug smirk on her face when she declined to comment on the controversy. She’s fucking trash. MAGA men just like your tits, bitch, they aren’t going to see your movies.) I also refuse to support any garbage actors who are getting Harry Potter paychecks in the future. You know who and what the Chatelaine of Castle TERF is; don’t plead fucking ignorance. You like blood money. Nice to know who’d be filming with Leni Reifenstahl in the 1930s.

I also saw the Supergirl trailer yesterday and really liked it. I’m sure the comic book incels will hate it, as they hate all women super-heroes. Seriously, little boys–why do powerful women trigger you so much?

Sigh.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a marvelous Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll see you again tomorrow morning.

Ride Captain Ride

Saturday! Sparky let me sleep late again, bless his little heart, and so I feel rested and good this morning. I have to run the errands I didn’t run yesterday (when I finished working I wasn’t in the mood to leave the house, other than a walk to Walgreens) and other than that, I am staying inside and working today on my own stuff. There are some games today I might watch (or have on in the background while I clean or write or read) besides LSU’s game tonight against SLU; Auburn-Oklahoma comes to mind for this afternoon, and Tulane plays Mississippi at the same time (GO WAVE!). Miami also plays Florida tonight, and I also haven’t looked to see what non-SEC games might be interesting to have on at some point.

I did get some things done yesterday around the house which pleased me enormously; I have some final touches to be done today around writing and reading. I need to redo my workspace because the last reorganization seemed like a good idea but…it’s not, and the workspace feels more cramped than it ever has, and I just can’t with that, you know? The apartment always feels cramped when it’s not in order, which I dislike intensely, and it feels pretty wide open this morning. I still need to vacuum the rugs and put dishes away, but other than that the house is pretty in order. Huzzah!

The Trey Reed story continues, and the official autopsy ruled it a “suicide,” although I’m not precisely sure how you can make that distinction between murder and suicide when the death is by hanging. From a tree. In Mississippi. Pardon me for not trusting anything official coming out of Mississippi regarding the strange death by hanging of a young Black man. I was also glad to see Colin Kaepernick’s foundation is paying for an independent autopsy on behalf of the family. (Speaking of Kaepernick, does anyone else see the NFL’s hypocrisy on drumming him out of the League for taking a knee when so many of them had a memorial moment pre-game for Charlie Kirk? Side-eye at you, Gail Benson–and I’ve not forgotten you and the Saints’ role in the New Orleans priest/pedophile cover-up, either….making it really hard for me to root for the Saints, you know? Also remember, she got all of Tom Benson’s money by cutting off his blood relatives…)

While I was doing my quality assurance work yesterday, I sat in my chair with Sparky sleeping around my feet and put Superman on to rewatch while I was working, and I have to say, it’s just as excellent the second viewing as it was the first…and I generally tend to not rewatch a film I’ve seen recently, so rewatching was saying something to begin with. Honestly, I’ve really not stopped thinking about this film since we saw it, and have watched numerous reviews and critiques (almost all positive) on Youtube ever since. I also had a lot more thoughts while watching the second time. The first time I watched it was as a viewer; and I am very glad we saw it on the wide screen, and I just wanted the experience. This time, I was able to pay closer attention to details and the plot, and so forth. The magic holds up on a second watch, and it also reminded me of why Superman is so wildly beloved. I also was able to pick out “the hero’s journey” out of the story this time, and I also realized that the Kents work because they were always supposed to be old for parents; they were already past any hope of having a child of their own when they found the baby and the rocket in their corn field, so almost every iteration of the Kents has been canonically wrong every time–the former Bo Duke and Lana Lang casting of the Kents in Smallville was particularly wrong, too. (He’s also a “found orphaned boy,” too.) Wendell Pierce was perfect casting as Perry White (and really, can’t we have Pierce in almost everything? He elevates everything he’s in, seriously.)–the entire film was expertly cast.

And I also realized I want to write more about Superman and revisit my love of the character from childhood, as well as writing about both Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen, because I finally remembered that the reason I wanted to be a journalist when I went to college was primarily because the idea took root from the Superman comics, and my affinity for Clark, Lois and Jimmy.

I also realized yesterday why I was having so much trouble with this book before I got sick; I am covering some unfortunate events in this story for Scotty and the boys and while the final third of the book is absolutely necessary, it’s not going to be easy to get done because it’s troubling. There’s a lot of work to do on this manuscript, but I feel like I can do it now.

And on that note, it isn’t getting done with me sitting here writing this, so I am going to bring this to a close and head into the spice mines. Have a great Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again tomorrow.

Screenshot

When I’m Sixty-four

For the first time in decades, I am not taking my birthday off.

That’s why I am up at this ungodly hour, swilling down coffee and consuming coffee cake like it’s going out of style. I need to conserve my PTO, because I am going to the panhandle (barring unforeseen circumstances) for a week with my dad in October after a weekend in Alabama for Dad’s and Mom’s birthdays. I also have to take some time off during Bouchercon–there’s no way I can work all day and then host Noir at the Bar that Thursday, and probably not going to be able to do much work that Friday, either. I think I’ve managed to get it all planned out so that I will have just enough vacation time left to do the family thing in October, and then let things start building back up again for the new year. It’s going to be weird going to work on my birthday–I generally take the day off because I don’t need or want the attention that comes with it–but I will survive, I am sure.

Sixty. Four.

Christ on the cross.

I never planned for my future because I never thought I would have one. When I was a kid, I was certain I wasn’t going to have much of an adult life; I always had nightmares about not only dying but how I would die; either in a car accident, or a fall from a high place. This is why I am always, to this day, a little bit tense when I’m in a car and a LOT tense when I am the passenger. In my early twenties, I thought I was going to seroconvert and die from AIDS–why would I ever think that I would survive that pandemic? The next thing I knew I had somehow made it to fifty, then sixty–and now I am sixty-four, with another milestone birthday just a year in my future, should I make it till then. I am woefully unprepared for retirement, so most likely will continue to work for another few years to at least try to get my debt down to a manageable place. Ha ha ha ha, I’m so adorable, aren’t I?

I guess the ship has sailed on me dying young, hasn’t it?

But it’s been a pretty good life thus far, I have to say. I’ve written and published a shit ton of work, which can never be taken away from me, and neither can the awards I’ve either won or made the shortlist for…how many authors never make a shortlist of any kind? But the childhood conditioning that celebrating myself and things I’ve accomplished is a hubristic tempting of fate; how many stories and myths and fables are there about hubristic humans who anger a god? Like I often say, I live in the city I love with the man I love doing work that I love. All of my dreams came true, no matter what happens in the future.

My sixties haven’t been easy on me, and I don’t have the energy I used to have so recovery from physical, emotional, and professional blows doesn’t happen as fast as it used to; but I’m still pretty pleased and happy with my life. I try not to worry about future outcomes that I can’t control, and can only prepare for the things I can. If my thirties were about getting myself mentally healthy so I could have the life I wanted, and the forties were about getting started in my career and the fifties were about getting further along and getting better as a writer, my sixties have been a time of revisiting and rethinking my past, finally getting to understand myself and where a lot of my neuroses stem from. The anxiety medication has helped me enormously in that regard, too. Realizing how emotionally crippling my anxiety was when I was a minor also has enabled me to remember, and those memories aren’t painful anymore because so much of my misery was directly attributable to said anxiety.

So now I am sixty-four. I am older than my grandparents were throughout my childhood, which is also a staggering realization. It’s also weird to think that I was born sixteen years after the end of World War II, the country was sinking into the depths of the Cold War, and President Kennedy hadn’t even been in office for a full year yet. I never imagined what it would be like to be this age, mainly because I, as stated earlier, never thought I would live this long. I’m trying not to be that old person–you know, “When I was your age” or “We used to call it” and that sort of thing, because no one really wants to hear it. I’ve seen a lot in my life, witnessed all kinds of events (the Challenger explosion, 9/11, Watergate hearings, on and on), and lived through all kinds of things. I’ve lived in Alabama, Chicago, Kansas, California, Houston, Tampa, Minneapolis, and New Orleans. I went to two high schools in different states, and two colleges in different states. I went to Italy for a week over ten years ago. I’ve had so many jobs, but being a writer/sexual health counselor were the only things that took with me.

Life’s been good to me so far.

After work, I am going to head home and just hang out with Sparky. If I had to hazard a guess, Paul will probably get us Hoshun for dinner tonight. But I got my vacuum cleaner last week, and that’s all I really cared about.

Happy birthday to me! And may my next year be a lovely one!

The only picture of my face as a baby, my first day home from the hospital.

Pour Some Sugar on Me

Thursday and my last day in the office for the week. I slept well again last night–didn’t want to get out from under my pile of blankets this morning, yet again–and we also had an amazing thunderstorm last night. Lightning was very close, the thunder rolled for what seemed like forever, and twice the power fluttered on and off before I went to bed. I had a good day at work yesterday–got a lot done there–and picked up the mail on the way home and there was plenty of it, too. This weather is the return of the system that was supposed to flood us this past weekend; it made a U-turn and basically came back. There’s no flood watch or anything, so it’s not as scary this time around, methinks. I did some chores when I got home before my usual catch-up on the news, and once Paul got home we started watching Untamed. We were on our second episode of the evening when the power blinked out then back on the first time, and it took forever for the wireless server to come back on line–Netflix is always slow to load, too–so we gave up for the evening. We’ll probably finish the show in another night or two, and then will have to find something new to watch again. Huzzah.

I am also still reeling a bit from how much my bi-monthly medication costs (#madness). It’s almost two hundred thousand dollars per year. Granted, that also includes the cost of the injection device that I have to attach to myself every eight weeks (I thought it was four; this is much better on me). It is on its way, and should be arriving sometime Friday at the postal service, so I can pop it into the refrigerator and keep it there until I need it in September. I have to go to the service on Friday anyway; I received the title pages for Double Crossing Van Dine anthology to sign (my co-editors, Donna Andrews and Art Taylor, have already signed them; I’m last to go) for the clothbound edition of the anthology. My story “The Spirit Tree,” is another Alabama story, for the record; yet another return to Corinth County! So one of the things I need to do either tonight or tomorrow morning is sign them.

Apparently I need to watch last night’s episode of South Park? Social media is completely abuzz with clips and general hilarity about this new episode, which targets Dumble-dumb. Something to stream while bonding with my precious Sparky tonight, at any rate. I also need to check my to-do list as well as make a more comprehensive one for the weekend. I have plenty of work to do at home tomorrow, of course, and lots of chores and writing and editing and cleaning to do around that, as always. I am trying to get my email inbox cleaned out, and I also need to do some studying on things. I don’t think I have to sign up for Medicare before I actually retire or stop working, according to what I have read, which is kind of a relief; I’d rather not deal with that frustrating red tape until I actually have to, you know?

Insurance shouldn’t be this crazy and complicated and irritating, frankly.

Neither should life.

I also want to get another newsletter out–either about the recent trend by gymbros to build up a beautiful butt1, or my one about the kids’ series featuring Vicki Barr, (pre-feminist) stewardess! I also owe a gazillion emails…sigh.

And on that note, it’s off to the spice mines with me. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I will be back in the morning.

The Temple of Poseidon
  1. So much of a gym trend that Men’s Health published an article about it! ↩︎

Rocket

Tuesday morning and I didn’t want to get out of bed It’s just so comfortable, you know? I ended up not running errands yesterday on my way home from work (so will have to run them tonight, I reckon). I came home, did some things, and then became a cat bed while I caught up on the world burning to the ground. We started watching Untamed last night on Netflix, which is a crime show set in Yosemite with Eric Bana, and certainly held our interest. There were times when I couldn’t watch–standing on the edge of a cliff, or rapellers, trapped on the side of said cliff face–where the extremity of the straight drop unsettled me (I was also deeply uncomfortable watching that Spider-Man Homecoming scene at the Washington Monument) and so I went into the kitchen until said scenes were over. I thought I might have some of my recurring nightmares about falling from a great height, but thank God, I was spared that horror. But the show also shows off how beautiful Yosemite is; when I lived in California I was only a few hours away and I had friends who grew up in those mountains, so I went up there periodically. (I also fictionalized one of those towns as Woodbridge in Sorceress and Sleeping Angel. I have another partial manuscript set there as well, which I should finish at some point.)

I hate being afraid of heights. It’s been a lifelong thing for me, and it’s unusual in that some things bother me while other things don’t. I love roller coasters, but there’s not enough money in the world to get me on a Ferris wheel. Balconies don’t bother me, but windows where you can look straight down from a great height? No thank you. Looking out an airplane window doesn’t phase me in the least, but ski lifts are terrifying. (I did get a bit uncomfortable during Superman when he went up into space before hurtling back down to earth, too.) I don’t know so much that it’s a fear of heights so much as it is falling from a great height. Or is that the same thing? I don’t know.

We’re also in another heat advisory, through tonight at seven–like every day when the tropical weather isn’t threatening. Our forecast doesn’t show rain again until late tomorrow afternoon, and my sinuses have been behaving, which is a very good sign. I also don’t feel terribly tired and/or worn out this morning, either–despite not wanting to get out of bed, but that’s because I was comfortable and relaxed, more than wanting to sleep later. Don’t get me wrong, I could probably fall asleep again if I went back to bed, but I feel alert this morning more so than I have in a really long time. Maybe that means I can get things done tonight after work instead of being a cat bed for the evening.

And I really do have a lot of work to do at home tonight.

It also seems like the infusions are controlling the ulcerative colitis, for which I am very grateful. I have yet to eat anything that has triggered it back into gear again, and I am also very grateful for that. I also realized yesterday–with my birthday looming–that I am eligible for Medicare next year, so I need to start looking into that as well. I also need to look at the employee handbook to see whether the agency will keep my insurance the way it is, or if I need to go on Medicare after all. Sigh. I hate dealing with this sort of thing, which means I always put it off, scan it when I need to, and never really have a thorough understanding of whatever it is once I am signed up for it–like my current insurances, both health and car.

I also posted a newsletter talking about Superman yesterday; you can read it here. I didn’t say everything I wanted to about the character and how it developed over the years. I didn’t even mention the key element of his personality and who he is: a symbol of hope. Truth be told, I could write about Superman every day for the rest of my life…well, I’d probably have to substitute other super-heroes along the way…but he is an excellent place to start. I hate that my memory has become so bad over the last few years–so much I don’t remember a lot anymore–that I don’t recall everything I’ve read about Superman (and/or DC Comics) over the years.

And on that note, I am going to bring this to a close and head into the spice mines for the day. Have a lovely and happy Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I will check back in with you in the morning tomorrow, okay?

Animal

Monday and back to the office with me. I didn’t want to get out of bed this morning–quelle surprise–but I feel pretty good and rested this morning. Today is an Admin Day, so I will get bleary-eyed at some point going over paperwork or doing data entry; and mental fatigue usually comes along with that. The apartment also looks better this morning than it has in a while when I get up; still needs some work, alas, but that’s how it goes sometimes.

We had a nice anniversary yesterday, finally going to see a matinee of Superman at the Prytania Theater. I always forget what a fun little cinema the Prytania is, and that they play classic movies for the first show on weekends. As for Superman, as a lifelong Superman fan…well, I loved it, and so did Paul. Perfectly cast, beautifully shot…this is the first movie since the first two Christopher Reeve films that really gets Superman right, but I think this adaptation might be my favorite (the only reason it’s not definitively my favorite is because I just saw it and am still in the afterglow of the enjoyment, which might tilt the scales in its favor…but I do want to see it again, which is a first for any adaptation). Nicholas Hoult was superb as Lex Luthor…there wasn’t any casting that seemed off or wrong.

I won’t say more because I am going to write about it for my newsletter.

We got home and I watched this week’s episode of Foundation and then watched Nicholas Hoult (he’s been a favorite of mine since Warm Bodies) in Juror #2, which, outside of the massive contrivance necessary for the story, was pretty good if a bit flawed. It was intended to be an interesting look into morality–definitely situational morality–and one of those “what would you do premises. There was another deep flaw in the story, too–but it would entail a spoiler, but this flaw was again necessary for the plot, so that’s another contrivance. But it has a terrific cast, was directed by Clint Eastwood, the performances were quite excellent, and it held my attention.

I have to run errands on the way home, and perhaps have some groceries delivered as well this evening. We need to find a new show to watch, too–having now finished America’s Sweethearts–so I’ll have to be looking around on the streaming apps tonight once I get home, too. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll even find some time to both read and write. #madness

And on that note, I need to get ready for work. Have a lovely Monday, Constant Reader, and I will be back tomorrow!

To Turn You On

And today, Paul and I celebrate our thirtieth (gulp) anniversary. YIKES. On August 1, we celebrate moving to New Orleans twenty-nine years ago–and then nineteen days later, I turn sixty-four (cue the Beatles). We are going to a matinee of Superman today–the plans are absolutely definite now–and then we’ll come home and relax. Sparky let me sleep in late this morning, which was much appreciated, and now I am awake and drinking coffee and being a bit reflective.

I had a nice day yesterday. I ran my errands and got home again in less than an hour; and I got a lot of the chores done. There’s still some things that need to be done today, but that’s okay. My kitchen sink and dishwasher are empty and the counters are clear. The laundry is all finished and put away, too. There’s still some things I need to get done today, but that’s okay. I didn’t really read anything yesterday other than things I’ve written–short stories and the Chlorine manuscript–in preparation to get to work on all of these things this week. I feel good this morning, good and rested, so I feel like I am going to be able to get some stuff done today before getting cleaned up and heading out for the movie. It’s gorgeous outside today–the sky is blue and the sun is shining, which probably means it’s in the nineties and feels like over a hundred; we’re going into heat advisories this week, too.

We are in what they used to call the dog days of summer–although I have no idea where that phrase actually came from.

We also finished America’s Sweethearts yesterday–and was very glad to see that the cheerleaders got their raise, and a significant one at that. I’ve always thought, based on the success of their branding over the last fifty years, that they were underpaid and very taken advantage of by the Cowboys organization. It’s a full time job, and they give up a lot of control over their own lives by dreaming to put on that barely-more-than-a-bikini uniform. I’d love to know how the cheerleaders were manifested into what they are today–a brand recognized worldwide, and how the decision was made to to pick those costumes and how they are handled and the rules they live by were developed. I know it happened in the 1970s; I wasn’t really much of a fan because I thought they were being overly sexualized to appeal to the male audience. The one takeaway from watching the show when it was originally on TNN was how the cheerleaders were depicted in that classic Madonna/whore thing: they wear revealing costumes that emphasize their bodies, yet they are all young women who seem to be very chaste and virginal, even the ones that are married or have boyfriends…which always struck me as a bit exploitative.

The two women who run the team, Kelli Finglass and Judy Trammell, are blunt to the point of being rude bitches at time, and the depth of their devotion (each have spent over forty years with the team) to the high standards they want for their performers is kind of impressive, if sometimes over the top (I do find myself thinking from time to time while viewing, “that was just rude” or “Kelli, you could have been a bit more diplomatic there”) and there are some interesting gender politics at play with the show, too–the women are all dressed and made-up to draw the male gaze, yet behind the scenes they are very sweet and supportive of each other to the point that someone cynical (like me) has to wonder how much of it is an act for the cameras. I mean, there’s no conflict between the girls, no personality clashes? But it’s also refreshing–after years of watching reality television and drama manufactured for the cameras for ratings so women can scream at each other–to see women’s relationships depicted as a sisterhood, like a sorority; and sometimes how the group reacts to things looks very sorority-minded. It’s kind of nice to see, actually; women supporting women.

And while I wonder about disordered eating and body dysmorphia for them, based on the pressures placed on them to remain slim yet voluptuous, my favorite quote from Kelli is her saying bluntly to one hopeful at training camp, “The uniform is very unforgiving.”

She wasn’t lying.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning.

Avalon

Many years ago, Anya Seton published a terrific historical novel set in pre-1066 England and titled Avalon. The title was a throwback to the female lead character’s bloodline; she was descended from King Arthur and thus part of the English royal family. I loved Anya Seton (Green Darkness remains one of my favorite books to this day)–it’s been a while since I’ve revisited her work, but maybe I should…her books are soooo long, though! Anyway, Avalon is an island from the Arthur mythology…I suppose this is where I admit I’ve never read anything about King Arthur other than the Mary Stewart novels, but I enjoyed those so much I never really felt much of a need to read anything else Arthurian1. For those of you who missed the 1980s, Roxy Music recorded an album titled Avalon, and the title song was gorgeous…as is the entire album, which I’ve been listening to lately. It still, for the record, holds up.

The tropical system turned out to be not much of anything here in New Orleans, but it was rough where it did rain and flood. Yesterday–which was supposed to be the worst of it–was gorgeous for most of the day. After work, we did go to Costco and then I had dinner with a good friend at Saba, which was lovely. My Lyft drivers in both directions were pretty great, too–which was very lovely. The meal was terrific, and I allowed myself a single cocktail–A Dionysus Revival, which was an interesting mix of tequila, cucumber, and mild ancho chili; it was delicious. I also did chores yesterday around working, and the kitchen–which still needs some work–looks so much better this morning than it did yesterday morning, and that makes me very happy this morning. NO DISHES!

I hope to have a good day today, I have some errands to run around noon (mail, make a little groceries), but other than that I am home for the day. We’ll probably watch some more of America’s Sweethearts later, too. I’m not entirely sure why this show fascinates us both so much–there’s definitely a camp quality to it–but it just sucks us in every time we start watching. We, of course, are old school–we used to watch this on TNN when it was called Making the Team, and you can tell Netflix spends more money on the show than TNN ever did. My coffee is tasting marvelous this morning, Sparky let me sleep a little later than usual, and I feel very good this morning. My sinuses are behaving and I don’t have the headache that’s plagued me for the last couple of weeks. I’m also going to spend some time with the new Megan Abbott and my other current reads. Tomorrow we are going to go see Superman, which I am absolutely looking forward to seeing. Reader, there will be a newsletter about my almost life-long love of the character.

I am also hoping to get some writing done today as well. It’s about time for me to get back in the saddle again–and every day that passes when I don’t climb up on that horse again is time slipping through my fingers. It’s creeping up on football season, too–which is going to make it harder to be productive on the weekends, like it always does. I need to clean off my desk and do the floors here in the kitchen, which will be my housework for the day; and I’ll pick up in the living room later on.

Such an exciting life I lead, right?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again tomorrow morning.

  1. I did watch Camelot–we saw it in the theater when I was really young. I tried rewatching it during the pandemic, but couldn’t get through it. I’ll never understand why they didn’t cast Julie Andrews as Guinevere, since she’d played it on stage. ↩︎

The Main Thing

Work at home Friday, as we head into this weekend. It started sprinkling here around lunch time, and the deluge came after one. It was pouring, but only lasted for about an hour or so–but a lot of water came down. The rest of the day was just gray, with an occasional light sprinkle. My sinuses behaved, surprisingly, and I wasn’t that tired when I left for home. There was no traffic on the highway; I only had to slow down on the ramp to I-10 rather than the usual stop-and-go fifteen minutes it is usually. I guess a lot of people stayed home yesterday…but all of our appointments also showed up, which was nice. Looking at the weather this morning–currently sunny with scattered clouds, potential of rain at any moment until tomorrow–it appears we missed most of the rain yesterday, which wound up west of the city. The Atchafalaya basin got 11 inches of rain (!!!) yesterday instead of us; 11 inches of rain would have shut New Orleans down for the day. I slept very deeply and restfully last night, so I have no idea if we got any rain overnight. I feel pretty good this morning, too. The coffee is going down well, my coffee cake was perfection, and I’ll have either toast or cereal or yogurt as a follow up later. We’re still planning on going to Costco after work today, but that will depend on the rain. I also have dinner plans with a friend, but again–that will depend on the weather.

I did some chores when I got home from work last night–dishes and laundry–but my mind was pretty much mush by the time I was done with that, and then Paul came home while I was catching up on the news (Epstein! Epstein! Epstein!), and we started watching season two of America’s Sweethearts: The Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders–which we used to watch when it aired on TNN as Making the Team. It’s definitely lots of fun; Paul and I are always fascinated by the two women who run the program, Kelly and Judy, who’ve pretty much dedicated their entire lives to the Dallas cheerleader program. (They also belong on a Real Housewives franchise, but are probably too busy.) I’m always fascinated by how these young women are sexualized by that uniform, but the show is always very careful to focus the cameras on the ones who come across as very sweet and virginal–or can play the part for the cameras, at least. I will definitely be talking more about this show!

But we’re on the cusp of another weekend, and I don’t have nearly as many chores to get done as I usually do, so I have a bit of a head start on the weekend; I won’t have to spend tomorrow morning cleaning or doing much of anything around here, so I can focus on reading my current books (Megan Abbott, Elizabeth Peters, Jay Bennett) and write. I’m not sure if the plans for the weekend include seeing Superman, but it’s playing in convenient nearby theaters, so it’s not a huge stretch for us to be able to see it. I’ve been a Superman fan since I was a kid and discovered the comic books and all the other media featuring him; I’ve read books, comic books, watched television shows and movies with him over the years–but I am also not one of those “fans” who feels betrayed by differences in adaptations, either. (Did Archie purists whine about Riverdale?) I’ve always been interested in the concept of super-heroes/metahumans etc., and have wanted to explore it in fiction sometime. But how can you be original when so much has been already done? Sigh. I always feel derivative when I’m writing anything, but that, I suspect, is a part of my imposter syndrome.

I really wish I could analyze the imposter syndrome right out of my brain.

It looks like we aren’t getting much rain today, after all, which will make the day a lot easier to deal with for errands and so forth. Huzzah! (The sun is shining now.)

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Sorry to be so dull, but that’s just the way it goes some weeks, you know? I will be back tomorrow morning, if not sooner; one never can be sure when the mood will strike! But have a great Friday, Constant Reader!

Steve Reeves in Trojan Horse

India

I’ve always wanted to go to India. Now it’s yet another one of those destinations I’ve wanted to visit since I was a child and never got around to seeing. Ah, well. There are worse things.

We’re due for some shitty weather, beginning later on today. We’re in a flood watch until Saturday, and there’s a tropical system heading this way as well. Yay? The office will be monitoring the situation and determining whether or not we should close the office because of the weather. I love the rain, not going to lie, and the thought of being able to read the new Megan Abbott while under a blanket while it rains outside is very appealing.

I just hope we don’t lose power.

It’s Pay-the-Bills Wednesday again, so I’ll have to make some time this morning to do just that. This will be the first paycheck with my raise on it, yay! We were very busy at the office yesterday, with the end result that I was very fatigued by the afternoon and headed straight home after work, collapsing into my chair and providing a comfy bed for a cuddle-bug Sparky. He’s become very attached to me since I got back from Alabama, which is lovely; when I was sick he couldn’t be bothered! But in fairness to him, when I was sick I was also getting up very frequently…I don’t know why he’s become so affectionate, but I also don’t mind it in the least. It’s relaxing to have a purring, sleeping kitty in your lap, isn’t it? I also went to bed around nine. I accomplished nothing last night, but that’s okay. Today won’t be as busy at work, it’ll be raining when I come home, and of course, I am hoping to have a productive evening. What we do this weekend will be tempered by the weather but I am still hopeful we’ll be able to go to Costco and see Superman.

As a cat bed, I spent most of the evening watching news clips on Youtube and doomscrolling social media, which was an utter waste of the night but I was too exhausted/fatigued from the day to do much of anything else. Of course I am trying not to berate myself for having such an unproductive evening, but I was fatigued and too befuddled to do much of anything, so let it go, Gregalicious. I do have a lot to get done, but it’s all dependent on my energy levels. Today I am going to review and revise my to-do list and start working on it. I don’t need to doomscroll social media much anymore–social media really isn’t much fun anymore. I used to interact with people a lot more before the billionaires began showing their evil hands. Facebook is mostly a waste of time with very little interaction, and I don’t use the Twitter replacements nearly as much as how I used to use Twitter back in the day. Now social media is nothing but a waste of time; if I’m not having interactions with friends and fun people, what is the point?

And yet I still go to Facebook a few times per day, mostly to post this blog or a newsletter, but the fun is gone. And was the fun worth the cost? On the one hand, I’m glad I found out some people I know are utter and complete garbage, but on the other, that also makes me a little sad. Social media took the mask off a lot of people, didn’t it? It kind of took the mask off the country, too, for that matter. Before this most recent election, I was always smugly confident that when push came to shove, Americans would always do the right thing and reject bigotry and prejudice. Joke’s on me, right? Sadly, it’s also a joke on the country, which I now think of as a joke myself.

But I feel good and rested this morning, which is always a plus. We’re going to be busier than I thought (the schedule got booked up overnight, or at least since I left yesterday), so I may be fatigued when I get off work and head homeward, but them’s the breaks and when I do get home, I have to do things before I become a cat-bed again.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday and I will see you in the morning again…if we don’t wash away over night.